


She Can Make Any Chair Look Like a Throne

by Agent_Scribe



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: F/M, she leaves with you but she does AU, they live in the library AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:26:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27586735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agent_Scribe/pseuds/Agent_Scribe
Summary: Gen and Irene actually do leave Attolia and go to live in Eddis in the library.
Relationships: Attolia | Irene/Eugenides
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	She Can Make Any Chair Look Like a Throne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Incomplete because I ran out of steam but here's the first part for y'all

Irene looks up from her reading to find her husband draped across the bed, head off the side, watching her. She smiles slightly, and sets the scroll aside. “How was the meeting?”

Gen groans and rubs his face. “Horrible. I hate meetings so much. You would think now that I’m not high king I could avoid them but nooo Helen insists on treating me no differently.” He looks up at his wife, upside-down, and is struck, as always, by her beauty. She is curled in the chair in the corner of his room, her feet tucked under her, her hair down around her shoulders. She looks soft, comfortable, relaxed even. The faint worry lines forming in her forehead have smoothed slightly since they came here. 

Irene uncurls slightly and reaches down to stroke Gen’s hair. He closes his eyes and hums. “Unfortunate for you and Erondites,” she says, “but I must admit to being glad the alliance has not fallen apart.”

Gen sighs. “It means nothing, now.”

“Oh? Now that half the Attolian forces have followed you to Eddis?”

“I am trying not to think about that, thank you so very much for reminding me.”

Irene bends down and kisses him lightly. “You are welcome, my king,” she says, almost mischievously. 

Gen cracks his eyes to glare at her, then melts as she strokes his hair and kisses him again. “Not fair, I can’t be mad at you,” he whines when she breaks the kiss. 

She hums and sits back. “When have I ever fought fair?” 

He sits up and runs his hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face, before giving her a look. “Never, my queen.”

Irene looks out of the window, pressing her lips together slightly. “What is the latest from dear Baron Erondites?” she asks.

“He continues to send angry messages demanding Sounis and Eddis recognize him as king. Eddis and Sounis continue to ignore them. I hear he has moved his own soldiers in as the palace guard, and expelled anyone who had connections to the previous monarchy.”

“A wise move.”

“He pretends to be incensed that his grandson is no longer in Attolia, which is nothing more than posturing. There have also been several letters from Baron Susa nearly begging us to return. I notice he did not mention his grandson.”

Irene shakes her head, finally looking back at him. “Typical. How long do you give it?”

“Another month,” Gen says. “It will fall apart most spectacularly.”

She looks from the door, then back to him. He shakes his head. She smiles, slides from the chair, and presses her lips to his. 

\--

Gen is sitting at the end of the bed, feet up on his desk when Irene walks in, closing the door behind her on a library full of attendants. She steps over and presses a kiss to the top of his head. “Don’t forget, there is a dinner tonight.”

Gen flings the scroll he’s reading onto the desk and looks up at her. There are circles darkening under his eyes these days; sleep has not been kind. “Another thing I thought I could avoid, as I am no longer king!” He raises his voice on the last bit, directing it to the closed door. There is rustling and murmuring from beyond it. He rolls his eyes. “I thought they  _ hated  _ me,” he says. “Why did so many of them stay?”

Irene is running her hand through his hair almost absently and she stops to kiss his forehead. “You inspire loyalty in others, much to your regret.”

“Disgusting.” He swings his feet off the desk and sighs. “To dinner we go, I suppose.”

Irene slides her arm into his and smiles down at him. “To dinner we go,  _ after _ you change.”

Gen grumbles but he knows better than to show up to a palace dinner as a moderately disgraced ex-high-king in his thief clothes. 


End file.
